


Your Fingerprints Inside My Head

by mithrel



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Banter, Blanket Permission, Epistolary, F/M, First Kiss, Ghost Drifting, M/M, Miscommunication, Podfic Welcome, Post-Canon, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 03:38:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1673291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Shatterdome shuts down Newt is lonely, so he takes to emailing a certain crotchetcy mathematician, who doesn't mind so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Fingerprints Inside My Head

It’s been eight months, two weeks, three days and seven hours since they stopped the clock. Seven months, three weeks, one day and nine hours since Newt started another clock.

The time since he’d seen Hermann Gottlieb. 

It’s not like he has time to _miss_ him. He’s been working with the committee to rebuild Boston (what do you know, that engineering degree came in handy after all) and if he’s not scrutinizing drafts of bridges or surveying roads, he’s running surprise inspections on the new Federal Building, or working on his own plans for a memorial park for the Kaiju victims from Massachusetts.

It’s just sometimes he’s surprised he’s been able to get so much work done without an acidic comment, or catches himself half-listening for the uneven _click-thump-thump_ of footsteps aided by a cane.

So finally he decides, what the hell, they’ve done it before, and opens his email.

To: hermanngottlieb@uni-leipzig.de

From: newtlizard@gmail.com

Subject: Don’t bother deleting this, you’ll be getting a hard-copy in the mail in a week anyway.

Dear Hermann,

How’s university life treating you? I bet you’re happy to have “decent accommodations” for a change, and food that doesn’t come from a can or a packet.

The reconstruction’s going well, if slowly, but most of central Boston is under construction and the outskirts are in the planning stages.

I heard from Mako and Raleigh about a month ago. They’ve settled down in Osaka; she’s teaching self-defense classes and he’s writing his autobiography (I know, right?) I don’t know what’s going on with Tendo or Herc, do you?

I’m thinking about getting into food science. I could totally rock that whole blowtorch and acid food prep. What do you think?

Hoping you’ll actually read this, and maybe reply,

Newt

He closes his browser and tries to pretend he didn’t just send that, so he won’t hope for a response.

Three days later he opens his email box to see notes from six different people asking for his opinion on things, and, sandwiched in the middle, a message from hermanngottlieb@uni-leipzig.de.

He ignores all of the other emails and manages to open it after three tries.

To: newtlizard@gmail.com

From: hermanngottlieb@uni-leipzig.de

Subject: You are ridiculous

I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating: you are ridiculous. And so is that email address; I cringed just typing it. For God’s _sake,_ you’re an _adult,_ could you at least _try_ to display some modicum of dignity and professionalism for _once_ in your life?

Newt grins at Hermann’s overuse of italics (never all capitals, he’d never be that crass) and continues reading:

And did you _really_ think it was necessary to send copies in two different media to ensure I read it? Why must you be such a pest?!

Newt grins again. He’s reduced him to interrobangs. He focuses again on the text.

Whatever you’re contemplating doing, don’t. I know they must be desperate for architects and engineers, since they hired _you_ , but being thrown in jail for public disturbance might make them re-think that decision.

No, I haven’t heard from anyone. Apparently they’re all too happy to see the back of me to risk any further contact. Except for you of course, you idiot. I’m currently teaching three classes on Advanced Statistics and Probability. It’s a pleasant change working with purely theoretical problems rather than gambling that people’s lives rest on the accuracy of my calculations.

Anyway, unlike you, I actually have _important_ work to do, so I’d best get back to it.

Dr. Hermann Gottlieb

Newt snorts and immediately hits _Reply._

To: hermanngottlieb@uni-leipzig.de

From: newtlizard@gmail.com

Subject: RE: You are ridiculous

You sound as if you think I’ve never been in jail _before._

And don’t give me that shit about “the accuracy of your calculations.” If you EVER made an error in calculations you’d break out the hair shirts and flagella. I don’t think you’ve ever made a mistake in your LIFE. You should try it some time.

Have you actually considered, oh, I don’t know, REACHING OUT to people? Call Mako or shoot an email to Tendo, you might be surprised. Maybe they’re just respecting your privacy? You’re not exactly a social butterfly, you know.

I’m sure you have your students justifiably terrified of their Cantankerous Professor and convinced they’ll never measure up to your expectations. Try cutting them some slack once in awhile. It’s hard to think when you’re petrified, as you well know. It’s a good thing you’ve got me around to keep you from imploding in an anal-retentive maelstrom.

Take care,  
Newt

Hermann’s reply, a few days later, is suitably scathing.

To: newtlizard@gmail.com

From: hermanngottlieb@uni-leipzig.de

Subject: RE: RE: You are ridiculous

I’m not going to ask why you were in jail. You might be serious.

Your faith in my ability is touching. And yes, that was sarcasm. The way I conduct my classroom is none of your business, and my students do just fine. None of them have withdrawn yet.

As for reaching out to the old PPDC, why bother? I was never that close with any of the Jaeger pilots, and the only person from the lab who was worth bothering with took it upon himself to contact me out of the blue, so there’s no need for that.

Have you added to that abomination of so-called “body art” yet? I daresay you’ll keep going until you run out of skin or money, and might invent kaiju to use since there are no more coming through the Breach. Ridiculous.

I’m glad to hear the reconstruction is going well. Several of the buildings of the university are still under construction and my “office” at one point was a cubbyhole that constantly shed drywall into my tea, although I’ve since been moved to more respectable accommodations. It should all be done within the next two years and this place might be finally worthy of the name “institute of higher learning” again.

Good luck on your projects and do try not to injure yourself too badly,  
Dr. Hermann Gottlieb

Newt reads over the email, then stops, derailed by one sentence. _The only person from the lab who was worth bothering with took it upon himself to contact me out of the blue._ Hermann can’t mean _him_ can he? He doesn’t dare ask. Hermann’s compliments are always backhanded, and if someone calls him on them, he denies ever making “such a soppy thing as a compliment, _really _.”__

But wait a moment. He had complimented _Hermann_ first, in the same backhanded fashion, about his skill at calculation. Maybe Hermann was just…returning the favor? But he’d complimented Hermann’s _skills._ Hermann had complimented _him._ Why would he escalate things like that?

He decides the best thing to do is ignore it, and opens a new email, since he doesn’t feel like being greeted with “You are ridiculous” every time he gets an email from Hermann.

To: hermanngottlieb@uni-leipzig.de

From: newtlizard@gmail.com

Subject: My Hovercraft is Full of Eels

Dear Hermann,

Since you asked so nicely, I’ll tell you why I was in jail. It involved goats, the Dean of Horticulture’s prize geranium, and a pair of extremely drunk herpetologists.

I’m planning a memorial park for the victims of the kaiju attacks and I was wondering if you have any suggestions. I’ve drafted some ideas, but nothing’s finalized yet, and I’d like your input.

Newt reads that over again, wondering if it sounded too much like he considers Hermann a friend (which he does, but Hermann doesn’t need to know that) then shrugs and continues.

I heard from Mako and Raleigh again. They’re getting married next year, and they’re planning on sending invitations to the whole PPDC team. I gave them your address, so good luck dodging it.

He’s privately hoping Hermann _won’t_ dodge it, so he’ll get a chance to see him again.

Since summer is coming up, will you get a break, or are you teaching summer classes? Never mind, stupid question. You really need to relax once in awhile. You’ll give yourself an aneurysm with all that work.

Take care,  
Newt

To: newtlizard@gmail.com

From: hermanngottlieb@uni-leipzig.de

Subject: Memorial Park

Newton,

What on Earth was that about eels and a hovercraft? Clearly you’ve finally gone ‘round the bend for good. And I most specifically did _not_ ask why you were in jail, yet you made a point of bringing it up again.

The memorial park is a lovely idea. Something understated and tasteful, assuming you can handle that. Lots of trees and flowers and possibly a sand garden with a column of the victims’ names in the middle, something like that.

_Why_ must you assume you know what’s best for me? I’m perfectly capable of deciding if I want to go to Raleigh and Mako’s wedding myself, you utter pest.

Newt snorts. “You know you love me,” he says, then freezes, shivers, shakes it off and keeps reading.

I’m not actually teaching summer classes…

(Newt almost falls out of his chair in shock, until he reads the next sentence.)

…I intend to spend the summer working on my equations. It will be good to have time to do it without worrying about marking or idiotic undergraduates coming to my office begging for a higher grade.

Newt grins. He can imagine Hermann’s answer to that: a disdainful glare down his nose and a curt “Study harder.” He was never one to slow down for people not as brilliant as he was, which is a large part of the reason he’s unpopular.

And I believe I already suffered an aneurysm because of some harebrained nincompoop with the idea to drift with a kaiju brain. I assure you, I’m not eager to repeat the experience.

Newt freezes again. What part of it exactly doesn’t he want to repeat? The nosebleed? The drifting itself? The vomiting?

Drifting with Hermann had been one of the best experiences of his life, despite the horror of the kaiju brain, the general situation, and the aftereffects, not that he’d ever admit that to anyone, especially Hermann himself. To think that he regards the _whole_ experience as abhorrent makes something in his chest twist.

He remembers the drift, remembers what he got from Hermann. It wasn’t like the Jaeger pilots said. It wasn’t memories. It was mainly emotions, which is weird for someone as analytical as Hermann. Feeling of safety, picture of an older woman’s face. Annoyance covering pleasure as a girl about seventeen tousles his hair. Unbelievable loneliness, frustration, rage, a desire to _show them all._ The older woman again, pale and thin in a hospital bed, overlaid with despair.

He doesn’t read the rest of the email.

***

When he finally gets around to replying, he keeps things purposely light.

To: hermanngottlieb@uni-leipzig.de

From: newtlizard@gmail.com

Subject: Memorial Park  
Attachment: kaijuparkplans.dwg

Dude, you lived in England _how_ long and you don’t recognize a reference to Monty Python when you see it? This is a tragic oversight in your education and needs to be remedied at once: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=akbflkF_1zY

I was going to have a fountain, but your idea might be better, considering. I attached a copy of the plans, hope you have AutoCAD. I have a lot of trails and paths so people can bike or walk their dogs, that sort of thing. Let me know if I forgot anything.

Research, eh? Finally going to come up with the Grand Unified Field Theory? Stupid gravity, always messing things up.

Newt hesitates a moment, then adds a final line.

I know whatever you come up with will be brilliant.

Don’t work too hard,

Newt

To: newtlizard@gmail.com

From: hermanngottlieb@uni-leipzig.de

Subject: RE: Memorial Park

Hello Newton,

Why on Earth did you think that this “Monty Python” nonsense was something I needed to know about? Hungarian phrasebooks, dead parrots, Vikings in cafes, it’s all drivel.

The plans for the park look quite nice. I can’t think of anything you’ve forgotten. And no, as a matter of fact, I do _not_ have AutoCAD, what would I need with drafting software? I had to find a colleague in the Engineering department to open the bloody thing.

Newt winces. He hadn’t thought of that. He should have converted the file.

Actually I’m working on a theory using Lambda Calculus. I don’t have time to come up with a Grand Unified Field Theory in one summer.

Newt’s lips quirk as he reads that sentence.

When are you breaking ground on the park? Are you involved in the construction at all, or just design and oversight? How long do you think it will be before it’s finished?

Regards,  
Hermann Gottlieb

***

They continue to email over the next few months. Newt sends Hermann a photo of the groundbreaking for the memorial park (“Dude, you should totally come for the dedication ceremony!” “Newton, how many times have I told you _not_ to call me ‘dude’?”)

As the date for Raleigh and Mako’s wedding approaches, Newt asks (tactfully, he thinks) if Hermann’s got a gift for them, and he responds “Of _course_ I have a gift for them, Newton, and unfortunately it looks like I’ll have to deliver it in person, since Tendo Choi has taken to calling me once a week to insist I be there.”

(Newt does a fistpump at that and makes a mental note to send Tendo a fruit-basket.)

***

Five days before the wedding, Newton has packed and repacked his suitcases three times.

 _Don’t be stupid, you’ll only be there for three days and you _know_ what the weather’s like in Japan, so just_ pack!

Unfortunately, his emotions insist on going through every possible combination of clothing he has and wondering if he should go shopping.

In the end, he’s forced by lack of time to finally finish, and heads for the airport with a carry-on and his wedding gift (a set of multicolored Napoleon flatware) tucked securely in his suitcase.

It’s an early morning flight, and he’d forced himself to stay up all night so that he’d sleep on the plane, since sixteen hours is a lot of time to kill.

He wakes up when they land in San Francisco and groggily makes his way off the plane. He goes to the bathroom, grabs a coffee in the terminal and heads for his gate, since it’s only a forty-five minute layover.

He idly checks his phone for messages, but doesn’t find any. He tries not to be disappointed, since Hermann is probably flying from Germany to Japan today himself.

He spends most of the flight sketching ideas for another tattoo (mostly crap; since the kaiju have stopped coming, he has no inspiration) and trying not to think that he’ll _finally_ be seeing Hermann again tomorrow after more than a year.

When the plane lands in Osaka, he manages to make it to the hotel where the wedding’s being held without getting mugged, raped or killed and crashes for another three hours. After the sleep and a shower he feels a little more human, but _starving,_ so he goes poking around to see what kind of restaurants are in the vicinity.

He finds a restaurant a block away from the hotel and orders tendon donburi and genmaicha. Full, he heads back to the hotel (the designated meeting point for wedding guests) to see if anyone else has checked in.

Hermann’s not there yet, but Herc’s rooming one floor above him, sans Max, and he runs into Tendo in the lobby.

Tendo pulls him into a brief but intense hug. “Newton Geiszler himself! How you been, man?”

Newt grins at him. “I’m on the second floor, come on, we can catch up.”

He spends an hour catching up with Tendo, who spent part of the last year as part of a skeleton crew monitoring the former location of the Breach, then settled down in Chengdu with his wife and kid.

The wedding’s not for a couple of days, so Hermann still has time. Mako and Raleigh are checked into the hotel too (in separate rooms, which Newt finds endlessly amusing, since he’s already heard Raleigh complain about it).

He’s less amused when Mako turns to him and says “You know you’re giving me away, right?"

He goggles at her. “I…you… _what?_ Why _me?!_ ”

“There’s no one else to do it,” she says softly, averting her eyes as Raleigh takes her hand, and _great,_ now he can’t refuse without looking like a world-class heel.

So he refrains from pointing out that Tendo is here, and she’s known him just as long. “I have nothing to wear!”

Raleigh looks at him skeptically. “You didn’t pack a suit?”

“I didn’t think I’d _need_ one!”

“Better buy one quick,” he says unsympathetically, as Newt begins mentally listing amino acids to keep from throttling him.

***

So he ends up spending most of his souvenir money on a suit, and it’s a good thing he’s short, because the sizes are ridiculously small. He ends up with a dark blue suit and tie, neatly packed away for the rehearsal, and 350 yen left in his pocket. Thank God the banks have established credit again.

He manages to fumble his way through the rehearsal. Herc’s entirely comfortable as Raleigh’s best man, but apparently he’d been given more notice.

After it’s over, he slogs up to his room, flops into bed, and only then realizes that Hermann hasn’t arrived yet.

***

Hermann isn’t at breakfast the next morning, and the ceremony starts at 3:00. “Is Hermann coming?” he asks Mako as he eats his okayo.

“He said he’d be here,” she replies, looking faintly worried too. Newt tries to calm his own nerves.

At 2:45 the wedding party is ready. Newt lowers Mako’s veil with shaking hands, then waits for the minister to signal that it’s time for them to walk down the aisle.

He walks with Mako to where Raleigh is standing at the front of the chapel. Raleigh bows to him gracefully and Newt bows awkwardly in return. “Take good care of her,” he whispers. “I’m a biologist. I can dissect you.”

Raleigh smiles as he takes Mako’s hand, but Newt sees him gulp. Good.

It’s only when Newt goes to sit down in the second row on the bride’s side that he realizes Hermann is sitting next to Tendo and his wife.

 _When did he get here?_ But there’s no time to talk to him now. He sits behind the roped-off front row, left for Mako’s parents and Pentecost. It’s a nice touch.

He darts a glance across the aisle. In the front row on the groom’s side are an older couple, a man with worry-lines overlying the smile lines, and a young woman with a strong resemblance to Raleigh.

He focuses on the ceremony again, which is only partly in English. Newt sees Tendo whispering to Hermann, and, at his inquiring look, he repeats what he’s saying to Newt, which turns out to be a translation.

“I didn’t know you spoke Japanese,” Newt whispers. 

“Picked up bits and pieces over the years, enough that I can follow a basic conversation,” Tendo whispers back.

Tendo doesn’t need to translate the Bible verse, since that’s given in English, but he does translate the reading afterward.

Newt is so engrossed in the ceremony that he’s almost surprised when it ends.

It seems like he’s the only one though, because Raleigh takes hold of Mako’s veil immediately, raises it, takes her face in his hands and kisses her.

By the volume of wild applause, and a wolf-whistle from Herc, you’d never guess that there were less than ten guests.

***

At the reception, everyone lines up to congratulate Mako and Raleigh. They went all out on the cake; Newt’s no baker, but the amount of flowers, lace, and icing dots must have cost a fortune.

The throwing of the bouquet is more symbolic than anything, since there are no unmarried women here, but Mako insisted. Newt just happens to be near the front, and he’s not _trying_ to catch it, but it lands in his hands anyway.

Herc nearly pisses himself laughing.

He’s just glad that Raleigh’s not throwing the garter, since _that_ would be humiliating.

When they cut the cake, Raleigh behaves himself, feeding Mako her bite politely. Mako, however, mashes his in his face, a wicked twinkle in her eye. Raleigh mock-growls at her, then laughs as she kisses away the frosting.

***

Cake in hand, Newt looks for Hermann, but he seems to have disappeared. He finally spots him hovering awkwardly near the door.

He makes his way over. “Hey.”

Hermann jumps. “Newton! Ah–hello.”

Newt frowns at the uncharacteristic nervousness. “When did you get in?”

“Late last night,” Hermann says, his eyes flicking about the room.

Now that he thinks about it, during the shutdown of the Shatterdome, Hermann had been avoiding him, only spending time with him when there was someone else there to act as a distraction.

“I’m glad you came.”

“Yes, well, it was a lovely ceremony.”

The silence stretches. Newt tries to think of something to break it. “The park is almost finished. We should be dedicating it next month.”

Hermann nods. “Send me photos. I’d like to see how it turned out.”

“You should come.”

Hermann blinks at him. “What?”

“To the _ceremony_ , dude!” Newton says. “You helped design it.” He’s brought it up before, he doesn’t know why Hermann seems so confused.

“I’d love to, Newton, but I’m quite busy with my research…”

And that’s bullshit. Hermann can just as easily do his research in Boston as Leipzig.

“Why are you acting so weird?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Hermann says stiffly.

“You were avoiding me at the Shatterdome, and now you’re acting like you’d rather be anywhere else. So what did I do?”

Hermann’s face softens slightly. “You didn’t do anything, Newton.”

“Then _what is it_ ” He reaches out to grab Hermann’s arm, frustrated enough to ignore his wishes on personal space.

And freezes.

He’s heard about this from the Jaeger pilots, but he never expected to experience it himself. He and Hermann had only drifted once, after all.

But apparently it doesn’t matter.

They’re ghost drifting.

He lets his hand fall away, numb. Hermann looks just as shocked as he feels.

One good thing about it, though, is now he has an inkling what Hermann’s problem is. “What did you get from me, in…in the drift?”

Hermann shrugs slightly. “Nothing particularly significant or memorable.”

But Newt sees the memories he saw, hears what he’s not saying. “Hermann, dude, the memory-transfer during a drift is random, you _know_ that! Just because you didn’t get anything from the Shatterdome–“

“But I did.”

And that, _that’s_ Hermann’s problem. He has some ridiculous notion that since none of the memories he got during the drift involved _him,_ that means Newt doesn’t think he’s important.

Newt needs to correct that right now. And, luckily, he’s got the perfect way to do it.

He brings up the memories he has of Hermann, one after another. It’s so quick Hermann won’t be able to sort them out, but the memories themselves aren’t important. It’s the emotions behind them.

He starts from their first meeting, and ends when the two of them leave the Shatterdome for the last time.

By the time he’s halfway through, Hermann looks shell-shocked.

When he’s finally done, Newt glares at him, daring him to dispute the evidence.

Hermann’s right hand twitches, and Newt can feel through the connection that he wants to reach out but doesn’t quite dare.

So he takes the decision away from him, cupping Hermann’s cheek in one hand.

Hermann flinches at the intimacy of the touch, which is absurd considering they’re _in each others’ heads._ Newt doesn’t give him time to pull away, leaning forward and brushing his lips against Hermann’s.

What happens next he’d never have expected, not from Hermann Gottlieb. Rather than freezing or pulling away, Hermann fucking _melts_ into him, glomming on like an octopus and burying his head in Newt’s neck.

He stands there stunned for a moment before reaching up to awkwardly rub Hermann’s back.

The touch seems to make Hermann realize what he’s doing, because he immediately pulls away, trying to pull some vestige of his normal professionalism around himself. “I’m sorry, Dr. Geiszler, I didn’t mean to–“

“Didn’t mean to what?” Newt snaps, in no mood for Hermann’s bullshit, not when he’s _this close_ to getting what he’s wanted for years. “Didn’t mean to act like a human being for once in your life?”

Hermann bristles. “I won’t take pity from anyone, Dr. Geizsler, not even you!”

“Pity?!” Newt goggles at him. “Is that what you think this is?”

“What else could it be?” Hermann snaps.

“Dude, I’m in love with you!” he snaps back, then pales, his whole body going cold.

For once Hermann’s speechless, but he quickly recovers. “Ent _schul_ digung?!”

Newt winces. Hermann almost never speaks German with people whose primary language is anything else. But he’s said it, so there’s nothing else to do but face the music. Instead of repeating it, though, since Hermann won’t believe it, he just sighs and lets go of any lingering resistance to the ghost drift, letting everything through.

And Hermann’s speechless for the second time in as many minutes, his mouth hanging open slightly as he absorbs what Newt’s trying to show him.

“Oh,” he finally manages softly, and Newt can’t help but grin.

“Yeah, ‘oh,’” he says, and dares to kiss him again, longer this time, but still soft. He doesn’t know what he expects from Hermann, since the last few minutes have turned several assumptions he had about Hermann Gottlieb on their heads, so he just wipes his mind of everything.

Hermann’s hands come up to his biceps and clench, but not hard. He ends up flexing his hands in Newt’s jacket, then moving them around to his back. 

Newt himself isn’t focused on anything but the fact that he’s finally _kissing_ Herman Gottlieb, and Hermann is kissing _back._ He’s not doing anything but kissing, just lips on lips, but Newt’s totally on board with that, not least because an unexpected side-effect of the ghost drift is that he doesn’t only feel Hermann kissing him, he feels himself kissing Hermann.

Hermann’s the one who pulls back first, but he rests their foreheads together, his chest heaving as if he’d been holding his breath all his life and had only now learned what air is.

Newt leans back so he can grip Hermann’s shoulders and give him a cautious smile. “You OK?”

And Hermann smiles back at him, a smile Newt’s never seen before, not even in the rare moments that he’d been relaxed enough to let his walls down a little. “Yes, Newton, I believe I am.”


End file.
